


But Tonight, You Belong To Me

by Momma_Sun



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Alcoholism, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gore, Kidnapping, Mentions of Suicide, Other, gender neutral protagonist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 16:15:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16957296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma_Sun/pseuds/Momma_Sun
Summary: I knowYou belong to somebody newBut tonightYou belongTo me





	But Tonight, You Belong To Me

**Author's Note:**

> I Am So Sorry

I've thought of it before, multiple times in fact, and once considered it. Never did I think to actually go through with it, however. What is it I'm talking about? Well I'd think the booze and scars would make it clear. Death.

Death isn't a far stretch, and it's a close friend to depression and a sister to suicidal thoughts, of which I've met with more frequently than I'd like to admit. My friend dragged me to a club yesterday, I think the DJ tried to flirt with me but my friend dragged me away before anything could happen.

Probably for the better, who knows what hooking up with a stranger could lead to.

Nothing good, that's for sure.

Tonight, however, I'm alone. As it is on most nights. Though unlike most nights, I'm heading out. Death is knocking it's boney hand on my door once again and I need a drink, so to the bar I go, back to my old friend: The bottle.

The night sky was shining with twinkles of stars, each shining for a different person. None shining for me. The cool breeze flew through my hair, causing it to ripple like waves on an ocean.

It didn't take long for the bar to come into view, I knew the path all too well. It's embarrassing to recite how many times I've been down this road.

I opened the door, the small creak doing little to deafen the lively bar, which was filled to the brim with costumers. Mostly college students partying on the weekend.

If only I could be as carefree as they are.

I walked up to the bar tender, not even having to say anything before she nodded and prepared my drink.

"You really outta get a betta hobby, honey." I could never decipher her accent, it sounded New Yorkern, but when I asked she stated she never lived there. It could also be southern, but I never asked.

"I'm fine." I mumbled before taking a sip of the hard whiskey, the burn all to familiar, and almost comforting.

"All right, dear... Just 'member that I'm 'ere for ya, okay?" I nodded, giving her a smile. Forced of course, but I feel she earned it. She always had to deal with my shit, and I kind if felt bad for her. She was kind of like a friend at this point, hell she even knew where I lived.

I have no idea how much time had passed before she poked my shoulder, "Ay, I think that someone got an admirer." She pointed to the corner of the bar.

I followed her gaze to a man. Fairly handsome, average height, and probably needing a shower just as bad as myself.

"You could use a friend." I sighed and stood up.

"Just for you." I turned on my heels and walked towards the man, drink in hand. As I got closer, it seemed his smile got wider. I also noticed his eyes seemingly made of molten gold. In my drunken haze, I couldn't see the darkness hiding behind them.

"Hello, buddy! Glad to see you finally making your way over." His smile seemed to brighten up the room, and it was contagious as I found myself smiling in reply as I took a seat.

"H-hey."

"Name's Strade! Mind telling me yours, kumpel?" Kumpel? Must be foreign. His accent was heavy, yet comforting in an odd way. I told him my name and he seemed to light up, as if he could get any more cheery.

"I've seen you around, buddy. You come here quite often, I'm surprised we haven't met sooner!" I gave an awkward laugh and tried to avoid responding by taking a sip of my drink. Only to realize it was gone.

"Wow, you drink fast." He commented.

"I didn't even notice... I uhm... I think I'm gonna go." I felt my phone vibrate and I reached to grab it. I noticed his eye twitch. What?

Oh, my friend texted me. "Something wrong, kumpel?" He asked, keeping that smile plastered on his face.

"Oh, no. Just a friend texting me. Wondering where I am cause I guess she made plans for me about going to a club again." He rose a brow.

"I didn't take you for a club goer."

"I'm not."

"Dragged along?"

"Yep." I put my phone back in my pocket and pulled out my wallet to pay for my drinks, though he stood up and grabbed my wrist.

"No no, don't worry. I got it." I rose a brow and looked into his eyes.

"You sure? You have no idea how many I drank before coming over here." And neither did I as I stumbled out of his grasp, already feeling the oncoming headache.

"7. Quite impressive for someone of your size." What did that mean? Also, 7? Damn, that's more than I thought. All hard whiskey too. No wonder my head is pounding.

"Do you need a ride home, kumpel?" His voice seemed oddly kind and his face seemed to show actual concern. How sweet.

"N-no I..." I almost hurled after taking a few steps, "Okay maybe... Thank you." His smile returned, though something about it seemed off. I was too drunk to care, I just wanted to go home.

Though it seemed Strade had other plans.

When we reached his car, I entered and buckled in, heaving a heavy sigh before turning to look at the window. I looked down.

"Uh Strade... Where's your-" Before I could finish my sentence, I felt a rough hand grab a fist full of hair and slam it against the dashboard. 

Then black.

When I woke up, my head buzzed and pounded against my eyes, a searing pain welling up. I hissed in pain as I tried to rub my eyes, only to realize my hands were tied together. Quickly tightly might I add.

I wanted to yell but my throat was dry, and my migraine refused to allow me. I sat alone in the dark, letting my eyes adjust to look around. Looked like the basement of an engineer. There were power tools on the table in front of me, a fridge to the side. Turning my head I could see the room branched off to a side room. It was too dark to make out anything. I turned forward and leaned back against the cold, wooden pole. I sighed and closed my eyes.

I sat in silence, trying to go back to sleep. I didn't get the sleep I wanted, as the lights suddenly switched on and I heard heavy footsteps from the stairs nearby. I squinted and opened my eyes to see the man from last night.

Fuck, what was his name?

"Guten morgen, buddy! Glad to see you awake!" I blinked and gave a confused look. I watched as a laugh rippled through his features. Something about his smile seemed sickly. Nothing like what I remembered. His comforting gaze now deadly.

"Where am I?" My voice was coarse and it hurt to speak. Strade turned to the fridge and grabbed a drink.

"I'll answer your question so long as you drink this." I squinted at him in annoyance, but agreed. I needed a drink anyway.

Before I could question any further, he put the cup to my lips and tipped it, forcing me to drink faster than usual. Some of it fell onto my shirt.

"You're in my basement. I figured that, seeing as we got along so well last night, why not take this lovely person home and get to know them a little better!" He could see the skepticism on my features, even as I drank.

He waited until I was done before standing back up and putting the cup on the table. "So, how are you feeling?"

I glared daggers at him. "Peachy." I growled. My throat felt better at least, and I'm guessing he put something in that drink because my pounding migraine was slowly going away.

"Mmm mouthy." He mumbled quietly. I barely heard him, but I heard him.

"So what are you gonna do, huh? Rape me? Cut off my limbs? Remove my eyes? Eat my tongue?" His smile faltered as he took out a large hunting knife. My heart beat quickened.

"Keep up that attitude and I might."

"Attitude? YOU kidnapped ME! I think I deserve to be a little PISSY!" My anger was boiling over, built up from the past few years of bullshit. Strade didn't seem to like that.

He knelt down in front of me, his golden eyes holding my stare. A silent battle between the two of us, one he was determined to win.

He took the knife and began to cut up my clothing, keeping complete eye contact as he did so. I didn't look away either. Not even when the cold air touched my bare chest.

He smelled terrible, being up this close really made that fact clear as glass. Shattered glass.

Strade wasted no time in taking advantage of my now nude body, my clothes having been ripped off. I kept the fire in my eyes for as long as I could, refusing to back down and let him win.

His grin returned, "Feisty. We'll see how long that lasts."

"So, you're gonna rape me? See how much you can break my mind? Shatter my brain into a million pieces like broken glass? Is that was you want?" I paused for a second to let look him directly in the eyes.

"Well you have another thing coming, because my mind is already broken. So do your worst, pervert."

"Du bist sehr nervig, kumpel." He growled and harshly grabbed my throat, his grip tightening. "I wanted to have fun. I wanted to have a good time."

"I bet you did." His grip tightened, by windpipe closing in. I was struggling to breath.

"But you had to come and _ruin it._ " Strade seemed far away from the happy facade of last night.

He was pissed.

I gasped for air, my vision going blurry.

He suddenly released his hand and reached behind me to untie my hands. I gasped for air, not even caring I was just breathing in his scent.

I didn't have much time to register proper breathing before I was shoved to the cold floor.

"I wanted this to my fun for both of us, but I guess you had other plans."

I stared at him, fear in my eyes as he unbuckled his belt. He was hard, must be easily excited.

He bent down and forced his cock in with one thrust, a scream rippling through my tortured throat. He grinned and bit my shoulder, hard enough to break my skin and cause blood to pour from me.

Strade growled as he roughly thrusted, using the knife to cut various slits into my skin.

I was still struggling to breath as he continued to ravish my vulnerable body. He bit down on various spots on my neck, collarbone, and shoulders. Each bleeding slowly.

I cried out in pain as each cut burned from his touches, blood beginning to pool on the floor below me. I hissed and managed to choke out a single sentence.

"Fuck you. Asshole."

He groaned and his thrusting seemed off. My eyes widened and I tried to move, but my body was too weak.

He gasped and gave one last harsh bite as he released into my scarred body.

He took a moment to calm down from his high before grinning and putting the knife to my neck.

"Well... That was fun... I'll give you one last chance to clean that dirty mouth of yours."

"Eat my fucking ass."

"I tried."

I screamed as he pushed down, blood coming out of my mouth and neck.

My screams died out as I drowned on my own blood. The last thing I heard before nothing, was Strade's voice.

"Taking out your voice will making you much more likable. You'll look beautiful on my mantel."

 

_**You died: Strade didn't like your tone.** _


End file.
